It's my party and I'll cry if I want to
by Broad and Bernard
Summary: It's Loki's birthday, and a huge multi-fandom party is in swing! It's gonna be a wild night!


Thor screamed like a constipated whale as he squatted on the WC. He was regretting stuffing his bearded gob with shawarma the night before. The night before was wilder than a wildebeest with roid rage. Thor reminisced as he strained and roared.

"WOOOY!" yodelled Clint, swinging down from the eaves and taking out an innocent jelly on the buffet table. He was wearing nought but a pink, plaid kilt which gave the party-goers a lovely view.

He did a triple flip in the air and face-planted into Arthur, whose chins wobbled in alarm. Arthur had been trying to chat up Lumpy Space Princess when the surprise collision with the half-naked superhero occurred. He tumbled backwards and bounced off Anderson's gargantuan paunch. Anderson screamed and belched in terror, releasing the odours of a greasy buffet into the room.

"FWAR!" exclaimed Captain Jack Harkness. "Ever heard of Colgate, you loser?"

Anderson heaved his heavy buns off the floor on his hairy peg-legs, which were exposed due to his micro-shorts. "I know you are but what am I?!" honked Anderson sassily, swaying his love-handles to the beat of the groovy dubstep playing on the stereo.

Loki waddled over to the clashing couple, toting a plate full of mini-quiche. "Don't fight, guys! It's my birthday!" he squealed. A quiche Lorraine toppled to the floor, and a passing River Song stacked ungracefully over the slippery savoury snack, skidding across the dance floor and into the arms of Frodo. "You must be as swift as the coursing river, my curly-haired dame!" he quipped as his buns grinded to the music.

"Oo-er!" croaked River Song, due to her terrible 40-a-day habits.

"Dos minutos por favor!" the buxom badboy screeched, his hairy feet quivering like terrified possums.

"What both? Both what?" asked River, as she draped her arms around his thick midriff. The chunky pair retired to the WC, happy to be alive.

Meanwhile, Charles was observing the romantic escapades on the dance floor whilst chugging eggnog at the bar, when a wide-eyed beauty slid up to him.

"Greetings, sir!" squawked Dean earnestly. Charles scooped Dean's pulsating loins and firm buns into his shovel-manos. "Nice meat!" he crooned seductively. Before he knew it, he was sprawled face down on the dance-floor, gazing at the widest angle, Castiel. The obese leviathan was under the floor, and the dance-floor was transparent. The dance-floor erupted as Castiel burst forth in a shower of pine chippings like a goat being castrated. "Get your hands of my beau, you satanic sinner!" he roared through his jowls. Everyone applauded Castiel's daring entrance, apart from the boozy maestro slumped against a pile of oatten cereal bars. "You made me spill my drink you arse!" he wailed. "I'll skewer you through the buns!"

Castiel raised his threaded brows suggestively. Haymitch lunged forward with an unearthly cry in an effort to rugby-tackle the homosexual angle to the ground. However, Castiel merely wobbled, deflecting Haymitch with his armour-plated moobs and sending him flying into the stratosphere, where he crashed into Shrek's nose.

"What ye doin'?" exclaimed Shrek's nose in a thick Scottish accent. "Yer lout!"

Back on terra-firma, the party was ragin'. Nine was bathing his sweaty manhood in the chocolate fountain, pleasured by the warm carress of the brown liquid. Sherlock sidled up to him with a sly grin. "That isn't chocolate!" he sneered. "That's my excrement!"

Nine removed his penis at the speed of light and hurled it across the room, where it landed on Merlin's paper plate. "Mmm! Hot-dogs!" the young warlock exclaimed, stuffing the dung-coated sausage of fun into his wobbly gums, finding it hairier than he expected. "Tangy!" he bellowed. "I must get more!"

Sherlock and Nine tittered with glee, before Nine asked the question on everybody's mind: "Why did you release your faeces into the chocolate fountain?"

Sherlock blinked coyly. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you!"

Nine linked bingo-wings with Sherlock and the two oozing genies stomped out of the room, grabbing a carrot-stick along the way.

Merlin was crying because he had hair stuck in his teeth. Even his mighty cheekbones could not chew through the tough meat. Muscle man approached him, and threw his stinking pit over Merlin's shoulder. His visible stench obscured Merlin's sight. "Cheer up grandma!" Muscle man hollered. "You know who else accidently eats penises? MY MOM!"

Merlin was delighted. He had finally found a man he could trust. "You can eat my penis anytime!"

"Oo-er, Mrs!" broached Muscle man, farting robustly. Without further ado, the sweaty green male squatted before Merlin's loin, tearing at his spangly harem pants with his proud bill. Merlin collapsed into the bin, and Muscle- man dove in after him.

Whilst all of this was going on, Steve was masturbating violently in his room whilst watching the party on live webcam. He grunted and gurned with passion as he observed Lestrade mounting Nick Fury in the paddling pool. A wild Bannakaffalatta appeared and dumped a huge vat of fromage frais over the grinding couple. "Who did this to us?!" screeched Nick Fury as Lestrade drowned in yoghurt. "Swim to shore, my love!" he commanded as the docile detective gasped and floundered in the inch of yoghurt. Steve gasped and reared as the yoghurt cascaded suggestively over the edges the blow-up pool.

Steve screamed as the poo-brain horse smashed through the ceiling, destroying everything he loved, including the webcam.

"You idiot! You spoiled my first time!" he roared. "I'll beat you to death, you horrid mare!" he advanced on the weighty stallion with a crow-bar, smashing him on the caboose with all his mite. The Ice-King erupted out of the horse's maw in a torrent of dead crickets and old waffles.

"Hey hey hey!" he said sheepishly, putting on his ray-bans for effect. Steve's heart melted.

"So, what's your name?" he burped.

"Your Saturday night party!" Ice King crowed, lifting up his scabby cagoule to reveal an expansive clitoris.

Steve stroked the Ice King's junk. "That's boyfriend material!"

In the throes of intimacy, the Ice-King wailed out "Gunther!"

Thor couldn't wait until Loki's next birthday party!


End file.
